The billionaire's beautiful marionette
"Be my wife."
Lucia looked at him, questioning his sanity.
"You're out of your mind.I don't even know you ".
Lucas Mariano's voice was icy, his gaze unreadable.
"You need help.Your sister requires care.I can help you both.You have quite the image so I'm sure you'll need it.
It's transactional-nothing more."He finished.
Once the rising star in the ballet world, Lucia Moretti's life is shaken after a brutal divorce and a terrible fire that leaves her and her sister homeless.
Now, with her dreams buried,her heart is guarded and her main focus is keeping both herself and her sister alive.
Enter Lucas-Merciless, cold and sinfully compelling.He offers a contract marriage which comes with everything Lucia needs but at a cost she doesn't understand...yet.
What started as a formality quickly grows into something far more twisted when her ex-husband,Matt-lucas's best friend-returns, determined to have her again.
"You got married to Lucas?" Matt snarled,fury dripping from his voice.
"Is this your revenge?" He continued icily.
No, Lucia said without emotion.
"This is survival."
As sparks fly and secrets come to light, Lucia Finds herself torn between a past that nearly broke her and a man who might shatter her in a brand new way.
In a world of socialites, betrayal and fake love, Lucia must ask herself: Is she the puppet or the one holding the strings?
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Chapter 6
Lucia's pov
Something felt off the moment I stepped into Sophia's ward.
The monitors were still beeping, but not in the serene, mechanical way I'd grown used to. This was erratic. Disordered. Like a countdown I couldn't grasp.
Her skin looked sick. Her lips had a bluish hue to them. And her little chest moved slower than it should. I let my bag fall to the floor as I rushed to her side.
"Sophia," I whispered, touching her hand.
"It's me. I brought your favorite jacket - yes the one with the ducks on it."
Nothing. She didn't even flutter her lashes.
I moved in closer. "Please Sophia, don't freak me out like this."
She moved. Not just a twitch, a full body jolt that pulled her head back and triggered a terrible gagging noise from her throat.
My heart leaped violently in my chest.
"Help! I NEED help over here!"
The door flew wide open. Nurses stormed the room instantly. A male doctor appeared in their midst, already giving orders.
"Seizure onset. Put her on some oxygen. Call Dr. Roman immediately!"
I was shoved to a corner.
I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.
All I saw was my sister's body writhing on the bed while wires curled around her like vines. One of the nurses looked at me and gently pushed me towards the door.
I didn't fight back. I just stumbled forward, my legs weak beneath me.
"She managed to survive the seizure," Dr Roman said to me two hours later in his office, but her condition is only getting worse."
My voice was barely audible. "What do you mean "only getting worse?"
"Her lungs are weakening. We can't manage the internal damage here any longer."
"There has to be something else. Another hospital another -"
"There is," he cut in. "A remote hospital abroad. They've managed to develop a regenerative treatment procedure. It's not a hundred percent but it's her only saving grace."
"Well then, why are we still wasting time?"
I snapped. " Transfer her, Immediately!"
He didn't move. He just pushed a paper over the desk. " It'll cost one hundred thousand dollars. All of the payment up front."
My breath left my lungs. "You CANNOT be serious right now."
"Oh but I am." He replied. Then continued.
"Lucia, this must be so hard for you but she has more or less three weeks. If she doesn't get the treatment soonest. Her lungs will fail forever."
Three weeks.
A hundred thousand.
The numbers felt like a nightmare.
The ICU was chilly as I sat beside Sophia, holding her palm.
It felt more clammy than before.
Her eyelids finally opened.
"Sophia?" I leaned in closer.
She forced a faint smile before speaking.
"Don't....go."
"I'm not going anywhere," I cut in quickly.
"I swear. I'm going to fix everything."
She blinked at me with so much effort - like staying awake cost too much energy for her.
"I'll save you," I muttered, though I had no clue how.
Because saying it was the only thing I could hold on to right now.
I blasted through the billing office.
"I want full details of everything paid,"
I said to the woman at the front desk.
She raised her brows. "You just got the invoice."
"Generate it again."
A few minutes later, I held it in my shaky hands - staring at it still made my skin crawl.
There were huge payments. Unchecked.
Made in the last four weeks.
Definitely not from me.
Someone else was covering Sophia's bills.
Someone with money.
But I guess the money wasn't enough.
I got back to the waiting room and the walls felt like they were closing in on me, like I was trapped.
I called my old ballet academy. Left messages.phoned everyone on my contact list. Old classmates. College friends. No one bothered to respond. And the few that did gave me pity and excuses.
I needed more than pity.
Money was the goal.
And I had so very little of it to give.
No investments. Little savings. People just didn't bother to help when they weren't directly affected.
Just then a terrible idea invaded my head.
A last ditch attempt.
Something people only thought of out of desperation.
I smiled bitterly to myself...
Well I WAS in fact desperate so I was going to try it out.
The morning came and I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep in fact. I stormed out of the hospital with a singular goal in my mind.
I left for a remote clinic downtown - the type that advertised nothing and monetized everything.
I stalked up to the front desk, hands sweaty.
"I'm here to register for egg donation. Or surrogacy. Whichever pays quickest."
The woman looked surprised. "Do you have a previous appointment, Miss?"
"No," I blurted out. "But I really must do this. Now."
She frowned. "Do you even know the risks and legal procedures?"
"I know that my sister is dying," I replied coldly. "So unless you like the death of a child on your conscience, fix me on the wretched list."
She held up a clipboard. "Wait a moment."
I found myself on the corner sofa, knees shaking, heart pounding. I lost track of how much time had passed.
Then the door opened wide.
A man strolled inside.
Average height. Grey suit. Rolex watch. Intense eyes.
He didn't strike me as a doctor.
In fact he reeked of trouble.
The desk lady pointed in my direction.
He grinned - and it wasn't a friendly grin.
"So, you're looking for fast cash huh?"
He asked.
I got up slowly. "Who are you?"
"Just a guy who can help."
His eyes scanned the file in his hand.
"Lucia, twenty five. Ballet instructor. Legal guardian. No family support whatsoever. No legal assets."
I froze. "You have access to medical records?"
He moved in closer. "I have premium access to important things."
"Who are you exactly?"
He grinned once more. "Let's just say I work with individuals who delight in giving hopeless people another shot. For a price of course."
Unease washed over me.
"What sort of price do you want?"
He clicked his tongue. "You sure ask a lot of questions for a desperate girlie.Do you want the money or not?"
I hesitated. "Of course I want the money but what's the catch?"
"Well you're correct. There's always a catch," he drawled. "But if you need it badly...you'll sign."
He gave me a tiny envelope. Weighty, sealed and suspicious.
"Read it when you're alone and ready. But once you do - there's no turning back."
I snatched the envelope.
I didn't say thanks.
I didn't even look him over again.
I just left the clinic, the envelope feeling like heavy metal in my hands.
And for the very first time ever. I wasn't sure of myself or who I was becoming.
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9.5
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love.
Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell.
He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel.
When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see.
The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me.
But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather.
He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear.
8.7
On her eighteenth birthday, Elinor thought she was finally an adult. But a single text message reminded her she was just property.
Boyd Walker, the ruthless billionaire who dictated her every breath, threw a contract onto her bed. He had bought her adoptive father's medical debt—one billion dollars. And she was the sole collateral.
The punishment for even a hint of rebellion was catastrophic.
When her disabled friend tried to check on her, Boyd had his good leg shattered in front of a live security feed just to teach her a lesson.
When she fought off an entitled frat boy at school and came back with a bleeding arm, Boyd didn't comfort her.
Driven by a twisted, suffocating jealousy, he held her under a freezing bath, then tied a red thread with a silver bell around her ankle.
"You are a pet that needs to learn its boundaries."
Every time she moved, the high-pitched ring was a humiliating reminder of her gilded cage. The billion-dollar debt was a chain she could never break, and the monster holding the leash would destroy anyone who dared to help her.
Stripped of her money, her friends, and her dignity, Elinor lay completely still in the dark room for three days, refusing all food and water.
If Boyd wouldn't give her freedom, she would take the only thing she had left to control—her own death.
7.8
Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he’d dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family’s land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell—the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I’ve suspended Hugh’s executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I’m just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back.
7.6
I am the illegitimate, mute daughter of the wealthy Owen family, kept hidden in the attic like a shameful secret.
To save his failing company, my father decided to sell me off to a repulsive, predatory investor named Grossman.
At the family dinner, Grossman's sweaty hands roamed my bare legs while my half-sister Kaleigh intentionally spilled red wine on my dress, laughing as she watched me suffer.
When I grabbed a steak knife to defend myself, my father slammed his fist on the table.
"Sit down, or I will cut off the maintenance payments for your mother's grave."
My stepmother and sister sneered, treating me like a piece of meat meant to be sacrificed for their luxury. I was starved, locked away, and treated worse than a stray dog, all while my family paraded their high-society status to the world.
I couldn't understand why they hated me so deeply, or who really ordered the hit that killed my mother twenty years ago. The police reports were buried, and I was entirely powerless, trapped in a house of monsters.
But they didn't know that the night before, I had accidentally stumbled into the secret life of Burleigh Livingston—the ruthless, supposedly paralyzed billionaire who was faking his madness.
When Burleigh suddenly crashed our family dinner and threw a limitless Black Card on the table to outbid Grossman and buy me for the night, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, accepted his twisted deal, and prepared to use the devil himself to tear my family apart.
8.0
They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't.
I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered.
I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever.
For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it.
Then fate laughed in my face.
My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child.
Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband.
But some secrets refuse to stay buried.
Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms.
It's standing right in front of me.
And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."